'History Repeating Itself '.

I sat there listening to the open air, the sound of history repeating as I looked on into the light-filled street. Then, finally, I see the future visions, one that resembles the past. 

My past was never easy. It was always rocky, but as I look on through the once darkened street, I see myself in the reflection of the road Mirror is something I do not want to know as it reminds me of my past. The nastiness of it, the cruelness of it. What is it that is so frustrating about history? Is it the fact that I could never relive it? Or the fact that the voices in my head were authentic and causing me distress. They say life is like a mirror, one where you can only see your reflection one where you can see that the examination is not always what you want to see.

I am scared of my past because it causes me to pain losing my Grandad, losing my friend, and losing my light all in one was the trauma tree of my history mounting down against the rocks. Filling in the gaps that were in between roads. The road that I looked on was so full of light. Now it lays deprived in the area as I look at the looming mirrors in the street.

The mirrors in the road sense my agonizing pain and tackle me down, watching me die inside myself and coming back to life again. That was this road, this magical road. I am afraid of what comes. Next, the darkness spiraling around the neck of the forest; it wants me to suffer the street, the mirror, and the forest now they don't want me to have a future.

I am afraid, more afraid than I have ever been in my life; I see it now a road that I am traveling down my mirror road the one I call home has now gone up in flames, it has sought the night with revenge, and now it threatens my future. As I travel throughout the road that leads me to the forest, I see the shiny armored creatures who smile at me; of course, I have no part in their lives, but they greet me as if I am one of them, they look at me as though I am there goddess from the angel lit sky. I see it now this road my home was a place full of happiness now darkness at every corner.

The articulated wind, the spineless according to ruin written in the stars, I am lost, 

so I speak to the creatures, the crafts, and the art of the speakers. Can you see it, young one, the mercer, says you are the one to claim the future, but first you must follow the road to the mirror of your past and lose all energy to transport you to home.

I look up at the merciless vision speaker. I am forever grateful for the comfort of the camouflaged voice. I feel not alone in this world; I feel as if my dead Grandfather connects with me, but it's not his voice I hear; it is there's the voice he has sent me from the angels of Eden.

I feel that my whole world has been shattered and torn into pieces. I am no longer attentive to myself as I was before.

History, oh the joy of how I watch the mirror road repeat itself till there Is no more fluid in its pipes, no more fillers in its game. It is time for me to face the music. As I look through the once dark road, I look full-heartedly in the mirror. As I do, I catch a glimpse of myself writing, holding a pen in parchment paper, and listening to the sound of redemption, of peace. I am home in my own little world, but it is like I am in a 19th-century life as the woman in the mirror has victorious clothes and the sense of fresh air that fills her lungs; of course, it is only natural to feel the light enter the rain and listen to the world go insane.

I see it now, my future self, my loving self, as a classy act of nature; the moon shines in the direction of inner peace.

The night grows, and the air begins to tackle me down that winding road.

Can you hear me? I whisper to the mirrored road; it replies by giving me a satisfactory image of my past first, it had me writing in a flamage of air; now it has me dying in the arms of the savior God himself.

 The protector I am dying in his arms, watch my life go up in smoke, I am lost by the tranquillity of life. However far or wide, I see it myself trimming around the edges of God the savior. I am forever grateful to be in the arms of the mighty father, But alas, this life is not meant for me; as thunder comes crashing down on the image, the mirrored road freezes over, and the earth begins to shake. Please come back to me. My belittled light doesn't leave out the darkness; don't cross the mountains.

As lightning strikes from the imagery, I am baffled by the sun, by the light, and it takes me down in this thunderstorm of hatred, pilling up the phantoms in the background.

Free verse is more freely written in a once peaceful world, now darkened by the innocence of the storm that keeps driving me insane.

Future, please call upon me, please tackle me down to the ground where I can take flight. Release me from the monstrous claws of injustices.

I am forever your future; just come take me before it is too late, before the mirrored road, the forest, the creatures, and the God all takes me down into a world of the past that I do not want to be in.

Crash, wallop, bang a world that was once purified with light; my guardian is here for he is the one to swallow my pride, he banishes me to the future and the past and omniscience's me to the present.

On my tombstone reads: RIP My future self, don't begrudge your past embrace the present illuminates the five senses. Listen to the Parallel universe. For now, it is the time to die within your skin look on in the mirrored road.

 And see that the forest, the creatures, and the God all belong with you in the home. Don't look up, don't look down, just be glad and thankful to be written in a light, and Grandad will be proud of his greatest dream of an accomplice. You have shown incredible bravery in all this. So be kind, be thankful, rest in peace where life is no more, and the story begins a war of no hate or pain, just democracy and rain.

The once spoken life filled with happiness is now gone in smoke, but I am thankful to be given this second chance to step into the light and take all that life gives me.

Forever in a day, forever in a light, no more deprivation tonight.